


Lead Us Not Into Temptation

by HalfwayToHell



Series: Salvation [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Religious Conflict, Religious Content, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Underage Drinking, Underage Kissing, Underage Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 01:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10479063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfwayToHell/pseuds/HalfwayToHell
Summary: After moving back to Deliverance, Texas, Jared finds himself overwhelmed by all the memories--the good and the bad--that the town brings back to him, but of all the memories that come rushing back, there is one person in the center of it all: Jensen. Not knowing what time has done to the green-eyed boy or their friendship, Jared is caught in the heartache of hoping not too much has changed between the two of them.





	

                                                       

* * *

 

_And lead us not into temptation,_

_but deliver us from evil:_

_For thine is the kingdom,_

_and the power,_

_and the glory,_

_forever._

_Amen._

* * *

 

_He shouldn’t have come._

_That had been the first thing that came to Jared’s mind as he leaned against the island in the grand kitchen, his lower back pressed against the marble edge, one hand preoccupied with a stereotypical red Solo cup found only at cliché high school parties—cheap, lukewarm gas station beer taking up residence in it._

 

 _Jared had only a sip and it had been enough to convince him that beer wasn’t for him, so instead, he simply held onto the cup to keep up the façade that he was enjoying_ _himself—that he was part of the crowd, that he was not, in fact, the metaphorical fly on the wall that he saw himself as._

 

_Though the home was rather impressive, the music from the speakers located in the living room was so brash, the lyrics were lost in the cacophony of the thumping bass that caused a vibration in the center of Jared’s chest and his ears had begun to ring from the unpleasant sound alone and an ache was starting to grow in his temples._

 

 _Jared did not imagine in a million lifetimes that he would ever spend a Friday night at Danneel Harris’ home surrounded by horny high school students stumbling around in drunken stupors—nor did he think he would have ever been_ considered _to be invited in the first place. But here he was: standing in Danneel’s kitchen “celebrating” their high school football’s homecoming game win with a drunken escapade out in the Texan countryside, a good few miles away from the sleepy little town of Deliverance._

 

 _The weariness—and aggravation—had begun to grate on Jared’s every last nerve and he had considered leaving multiple times that night, but to his misfortune, he had arrived with Genevieve and Danneel and_ him _. He was still not one-hundred percent sure how he had gotten here—although being emotionally blackmailed would have done the trick perfectly well—Jared begrudgingly knew the only way he was going to get home, was when_ he _was perfectly ready to take him home._

 

_The sudden vibration against his leg caused Jared to cast his attention toward the pocket of his jeans, where he removed his cell phone. There was a simple—seemingly innocent—text message blinking on his screen and had Jared known that all it would take is one text message to lead him to the one thing that would cause his world to crash and burn around him, he would have deleted it._

 

_But he hadn’t._

 

_Instead, the text read:_

 

**Backyard.**

 

_Although the message was abundantly vague, Jared wasn’t about to deny the sender’s request. He placed his cup upon the island before he pocketed his phone once more and made his way through the dense mass of dancing, sweaty, and grinding bodies in order to finally reach the sliding glass doors. The humid September night heat hit Jared as he walked out onto the back deck, the scent of sweet grass in the air as he descended the stairs. His eyes were alert as he searched for the familiar face of the boy who sent him the text message._

 

_Another vibration against his leg._

 

_Jared removed the phone from his pocket with another lone simple message which read:_

 

**Greenhouse.**

 

_He made his way across the backyard toward the glass house nestled in the far back corner of the lot, hidden away from plain sight by a grove of Mexican-Olive trees. The sweet scent from the white budding flowers grew to be intoxicating by the time Jared reached the greenhouse and ducked inside._

 

_Although it was a clear night, inside of the greenhouse, it was barely lit with slivers of the moonlight streaming in through the glass ceiling and Jared had to pay close attention where he stepped. Though there wasn’t much light, Jared could tell the greenhouse hadn’t been used to grow anything in years—the discarded bags of mulch and tools pressed into the far back corner._

 

_There were hands against Jared’s hips, familiar, slender fingers that were calloused from many years of playing guitar that gripped at him—pulling him flush against the warm, hard body behind him. A soft, full mouth pressed against the side of his neck, scraping teeth against the strained muscle there._

 

_Jared turned around to stare up into the familiar face of the boy in front of him. Through the silver light shining in through the glass, he could see the light dusting of nutmeg freckles against the other’s nose and bright, clear pine irises staring right back at him before he felt the calloused fingers grip gently at his chin, directing him ever closer towards the other boy, causing him to spiral faster and faster towards his own demise._

 

_Had Jared known that after that night, his entire universe would have been ripped from underneath him, he never would have let Jensen kiss him in the greenhouse._

 

**_\+ + + + +_ **

 

The day that Jared moved back to Deliverance, Texas was a hot one.

 

The Texan sun beat down on the back of his neck, scorching his skin into a bright red hue and his cheeks had not fared much better. Most people think that Texas is a desert wasteland with rolling tumbleweeds and dirt dry enough that it cracks with tall cacti standing up like spiny green skyscrapers in the hot abyss—oh how Jared wished that was true because then the unrelenting torment of the summer sun would make more sense—but there was one thing people did not know about Texas: not all of the heat was arid and dry.

 

It was all humidity—at least in the Eastern part of the great Lone Star State where Deliverance had been built from the ground up back in the early 1800’s when it was settled by a preacher and his family who had headed out West from New York, in search of “God’s country”.

 

Jared wasn’t sure what kind of “God” the preacher found, but he felt the man of God had found a personal place in Hell rather than Heaven on Earth—and the unbearable sticky heat only proved his point.

 

He paused to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead before it fell into his eyes. Seeking refuge in the shade of the U-Haul truck—even the shade not providing much help from the heat—Jared’s eyes had begun to sting from the salt in his sweat and he wiped at them with a dry section of his shirt to give them some relief.

 

“How’s the shade treatin’ you?” His father asked him as he came to stand beside Jared, his face also a nice shade of tomato red from the sun.

 

“Not much better,” admitted Jared with a faint smile.

 

“Yeah. I kinda figured not.” Gerald gave a light laugh. “Alice made some of her iced peach tea. I reckon we should take a short break, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah,” Jared agreed.

 

When Jared was only ten years old, he lost his mother—Sherri—to stage four breast cancer. There was a span of three years when it was just Jared and his father until Alice came crashing into their lives.

 

Gerald Padalecki was a sheriff of the Deliverance PD before Jared’s mother passed. Once she was gone, Jared’s father haphazardly took a position as far away from Texas as he could get: Tampa, Florida. Three years into them living in Tampa, Gerald met Alice Walker, who at the time, was a secretary for Tampa PD and it was love at first sight for them.

 

Jared had tried to give the woman an honest chance, but there was something about her—perhaps her overbearing Christian faith—that caused him to grow a silent loathing for her. Jared’s father did not know, but it didn’t matter because it seemed that Alice hated Jared as much as he did her, which he was more than fine with.

 

Jared honestly couldn’t understand what his father saw in the woman. She was pretty, sure—in a wheat blonde haired, white-tipped acrylic nails, fake tan kind of way who drawled on in a Southern accent that was so incredibly watered down and bogus that it sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Jared’s ears every time the woman talked—which was, unfortunately, _a lot_. Her impeccable ear for gossip and her constantly open and loud mouth to spread said gossip was all Alice was good for. She couldn’t cook, she could hardly clean, and Jared was surprised the woman even knew how to read.

 

Jared’s animosity toward Alice hadn’t reached its full potential until after his half-sister Sophie was born three years ago. All the hate in the young boy’s heart was spent on his good-for-nothing step-mother, but his heart was filled with nothing but complete love for his little sister. After Alice had given birth, she became a stay-at-home mother who did anything _but_ take care of Sophie, who had become Jared’s own personal responsibility to keep alive since he was thirteen—with Alice taking all of the credit for his work, of course.

 

Upon entering the kitchen, Jared found his step-mother sitting at the kitchen table with a Marie Claire magazine spread out before her and her cell phone attached to her right ear—per usual. A glass pitcher of iced peach tea sat in the center of the table with a sizable amount of ice cubes clinking around inside of the glass.

 

The tea was store-bought, something Jared had discovered years ago when he was taking out the trash to find empty tea bottles stuffed down at the bottom of the garbage can, but he didn’t see a point in telling his father this as he poured himself a cup of the tea, taking a long drink to quench his thirst.

 

“Jared! Look!” Sophie squealed from her high chair, proudly showing him her a page of white printer paper with remnants of Crayon scribbles all over it.  

 

“That’s beautiful, Soph,” Jared said with a smile, which caused dimples to appear in his little sister’s round cheeks. “What is it?”

 

“Butterfly!” The three-year-old exclaimed self-importantly, waving the paper in the air as if it was a white flag.

 

The drawing looked nothing like one, but Jared wasn’t about to tell his sweet little sister that.

 

“That’s a very pretty butterfly, Soph,” said Jared as the little girl turned her attention back to the paper, scribbling onto it once more.

 

Where Alice lacked in looks, his sister made up for it. Sophie was quite possibly the most beautiful baby he had ever seen. As though crafted from everything good and pure and warm in the world, Sophie Walker-Padalecki looked like a real-life cherub—with curly golden blonde hair, large baby blue eyes, perfectly round cheeks and deep dimples.

 

“Don’t worry, Janice. We’ll be there. I’ll talk to you on Sunday,” Alice said into her phone and it was the end of her conversation that slightly piqued Jared’s interest as his step-mother hung up the phone and turned to regard his father. “Janice Morris says the Ackles want to have a barbecue after church to welcome us into the neighborhood.”

 

The surprise caused Jared to suck in suddenly, choking on his tea. After he had finished coughing, he bounced his attention between his step-mother and his father.

 

 _“The Ackles?”_ Jared asked roughly, his voice still raw from coughing. “Pastor Alan is _still_ preaching? I thought they would have moved out of town a long time ago.”

 

Gerald shook his head and there was a small grimace pulling at the corner of his father’s mouth. “Alan isn’t a man of change, Jared. I s’ppose the good news is that you and his son can catch up--”

 

“Jensen,” He interrupted then. “His name is Jensen.”

 

“Right. You two used to be inseparable when we lived here. The barbecue would be the best place for you two to catch up, don’t you think?” His father inquired, giving a small, encouraging smile.

 

Jared forced his own smile. “Yeah. Yeah. Of course.”

 

Though he could put on a façade, put on a smile and fake it, Jared couldn’t fool himself. The guilt inside of him was overwhelming. It was true that he and Jensen were the ultimate package—you couldn’t have one without the other. They spent the summer nights growing up chasing frogs in the creek in the backyard of Jensen’s house, building forts made of pillows and blankets, climbing trees and scraping up knees.

 

They were the best of friends when they were kids, but now? Jared knew nothing about the sixteen-year-old Jensen and to know that Jensen hadn’t crossed his mind in years caused guilt to root itself to his stomach. After all: they hadn’t seen each other in six years, what if Jensen was _nothing_ like he remembered? What if he wasn’t the sandy-haired, nutmeg-freckled, pine green-eyed boy who was as shy as he was humorous? What if he wasn’t the same boy who had helped bandage Jared’s knee after he had fallen off of his bike?

 

Jared knew it was unrealistic to think that after all these years, Jensen would be the same person he was when he was ten—because Jared knew damn well that he wasn’t the same ten-year-old boy either—but what if Jensen was _too_ different? What if he didn’t remember that they were best friends once? What if he didn’t remember that he was the only person who could make him smile, make him laugh, make him truly _happy_ —even if it was only for a few minutes—after his mom had died? Jared didn’t know if he was ready to face that reality yet.

 

**_\+ + + + +_ **

 

Walking up the sidewalk to church that morning, Jared felt as though he was transported back to when he was a child, wearing his Sunday best and his little hand gripping tight to his mother’s hand as her heels clicked against the concrete. The narrow sidewalk lead up to the wooden steps of the little white church building, a large sign out front in great bold letters reading: FATHER’S HOUSE.

 

The last time Jared had been to church, was the day of his mother’s funeral. He had been sitting in one of the pews, trying to listen to what Pastor Alan was preaching about his mother going “home to the Kingdom of Heaven” and that “God decided it was time to call Sherri home”. Hot tears running down his cheeks, Jared couldn’t listen anymore and he ran from his seat at the front of the church and burst out the front doors, rounding the corner of the building where he collapsed and began to sob, crying until his throat was raw and he could hardly breathe. It was not long before he felt a hand on his back and a familiar face kneeling beside him, murmuring words of comfort and he remembered then that Jensen had pulled him into a tight hug and let him cry until he couldn’t anymore and his eyes were burning.

 

That was one of the last few memories Jared could remember where Jensen was concerned—at least clearly.

 

The inside of Father’s House was just as Jared had remembered it six years prior. The beautiful stained glass windows cast an array of greens, blues, purples, and reds across the soft gray carpet and the pews were still the same glossed dark wood and the church still smelled heavily of aging hymn books and bibles that were placed in the deep pockets on the back of each pew. At the very front of the church, was the podium that Pastor Alan stood behind and preached and right beside him, was the large organ that Jared’s mother used to play when they sang hymns. 

 

He had been so enthralled at all the memories that were rushing back like a dam that had spilled over, that he did not notice the man who approached him and clapped him welcomingly on the shoulder, startling him.

 

“There you are, Jared!” He turned around to face Pastor Alan, staring up into the older man’s face, and there was a large grin on the pastor’s lips. “I knew it was you. My, you haven’t changed at all! Well, except maybe the growth spurt and the hair,” —At this, Pastor Alan ruffled Jared’s shaggy hair playfully, causing him to return his smile— “How have you been?”

 

“I’ve been okay,” began Jared as he smoothed down his hair. “Just trying to adjust to being back in town. The church still looks the same,” He paused for a moment to lick his bottom lip. “Is Jensen around?”

 

A slight scowl pulled at the corner of Pastor Alan’s mouth. “Jensen will be joining us later. He went on a camping trip with some of his friends this past week and is supposed to be back soon.” The man reached out then, tightly squeezing Jared’s shoulder and the smile returned to his lips again. “It was great seeing you again, Jared. I’m sure Jensen will be thrilled to see you.”

 

 _I hope so_ , Jared thought to himself as he watched the pastor disappear into the throng of church goers, leaving him to stand alone near an oil painting of the lion and the lamb.

 

It wasn’t long before the sweltering Texan heat had reached them inside of Father’s House, humid, muggy air making it nearly unbearable for Jared to breathe. He started to fan his face with the announcement papers that were handed to him by Janice Morris: his step-mother’s good friend and the director of church activities. Jared hadn’t bothered to read what was printed on the paper and instead used it to try and cool himself down, but only hot air was being fanned into his face. Through all of the heat and having to wear a suit that only made his skin itch, the last thing Jared had cared about, was Pastor Alan’s preachings for the day, but as his droning started to come to an end, he found himself listening all too clearly to what he had to say.

 

“First Corinthians, chapter six, verses nine and ten talk about the things that prevent God’s children from entering the Kingdom of Heaven. It talks about all kinds of immoral acts and behaviors, but today, I wanted us to focus on the sentence right in the middle of those chapters. It reads, ‘and those who are homosexual’,” Suddenly, Jared felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach and his mouth dried instantly, the warmth of bile rising in his throat as he listened on with bated breath, “Let me be perfectly clear. You _cannot_ abide by the word of God and be okay with homosexuality. You _cannot_ have faith in God and be okay with homosexuality. You _cannot_ call yourself a true Christian and be okay with homosexuality,” —At this, there were murmurs of agreement ringing quietly all around him and Jared had to close his eyes tightly against the spinning room in front of him as Pastor Alan continued on— “But as Christians, we are taught to love and it would be unloving to not tell someone when their own salvation is at stake. It is possible to change because, with God, _all_ things are possible.”

 

Once Pastor Alan had finished, Jared walked quickly to the men’s restroom, forcing himself walk at a seemingly normal pace although his body was screaming for him to run away from this place. Inside the bathroom, Jared locked the door behind him and stumbled over to the sink, where he turned the tap all the way to cold and splashed the icy water onto his face, taking in deep, slow breaths to keep himself from hyperventilating.

 

His entire body felt like its own little earthquake as Jared stood in front of the sink, his hands and fingers and mouth and body quivering all over. And he was trying to breathe evenly, but every few breaths would catch suddenly in his closing throat and his heart felt as though it was pounding in his ears. Oh, so slowly, Jared finally removed his quaking hands to grip at the edge of the sink, staring wide-eyed into the mirror.

 

Gaping into the glass, Jared could see past the boy gazing back at him with flushed, ashen skin and hair damp with sweat and a trembling bottom lip to the night in which he first knew. He had been at a party. It was his freshman year of high school. Jared had been standing in the bathroom, his head thick from alcohol and his vision swam in front of him. He had looked up as the senior boy who had been flirting with him earlier came into the bathroom and waltzed up to Jared, the other boy’s mouth on his before he could react.

 

Jared could vividly remember the way the senior boy’s mouth melded perfectly against his and the way his body pressed against Jared’s, causing his lower back to dig into the edge of the sink. He could still feel the heat of the boy’s hands in his hair—grasping tightly at the strands—his tongue, which had still tasted of whiskey, licked into his mouth, and his hips ground into Jared’s, causing a heat to pool in his lower abdomen and his erection to strain painfully against the senior boy’s own bulge in his jeans. He also remembered vividly that the night had ended with bruised knee caps and the taste of come on his tongue.

 

\+ + + + +

 

The smell of hotdogs and hamburgers sizzling on the grill and the sound of children screaming and laughing happily filled the backyard of the Ackles’ residence. Jared sat on one of the swings of the old swing set that he and Jensen had played on endlessly for hours as children and he watched as Sophie ran around the green grass, her pale-yellow church dress bouncing against her knees as she chased after the other kids from church that were close to her age.

 

He held a plastic cup filled with strawberry lemonade in one hand as he slowly swung back and forth on the swing, his other hand griping gently at the metal chain. Jared’s eyes danced across the backyard as he inspected each and every one of the church goers, each of them talking and laughing and eating in their own respectable groups.

 

Jared wasn’t paying close attention to the other people at the barbeque because he was genuinely curious about what everyone else was doing, he was searching for the green-eyed boy, but he had already been at the get-together for a little over two hours and Jared had yet to see Jensen yet. A part of him hoped that Jensen wouldn’t show up until after he and his family had left, but there was another part of him that wanted nothing more in this entire world to at least see Jensen once before they were to leave.

 

Jared cast his eyes back down to his shoes, kicking at the woodchips beneath the soles of his Converse. His eyelids grew heavy from exhaustion, both from the heat and the rollercoaster of emotions he had felt earlier back in church. Jared closed his eyes and let the gentle sway of the swing coax him into a relaxed state of mind.

 

There was a sound of shuffling feet before he heard a warm, honeyed voice speak to him and it almost violently pulled him from his tranquil state.

 

“Still enjoy swings, I see.”

 

Standing only a few feet away from him, was a boy who appeared no older than sixteen with sun kissed skin, sandy hair, nutmeg freckles dotting his nose and upper cheeks with pine-green eyes enclosed in dark, thick eyelashes. His mouth was full and his face perfectly proportioned and the other teenager was dressed in a short sleeved white shirt that cut attractively above his upper arms to show the curve of his biceps and light-washed denim jeans that hugged his thighs and showed off the bow of his legs.

 

It had taken Jared a moment to find his words and when he had, they came out like a whisper on his lips.

 

“Jensen.”

 

The smile on the teen’s lips widened and he inclined his head before stating in a smooth, Texan voice, “Hey, Jared.”


End file.
